by Ashenden, V.
Celeste slapped Sienna across the face, making her gasp and recoil.
"Do give my regards to Court...in hell." Celeste laughed as she turned and walked away.
"No. No! Wait!" Sienna cried. "Don't kill him! Please, don't!" she called, no longer able to see Celeste. "Princess, please! Just let him live! Please!"
Sienna sobbed out, pulling against the bars in futility.
"Oh, dear child," Homa spoke up. "I did not believe the princess could be capable of such cruelty."
"Homa, we have to do something," Sienna said urgently. "We have to tell Court."
"But how, child?" Homa whispered.
Sienna broke down, holding her face. "I don't know."
* * *
Court sat at Banyan's bar, sipping ale, his foot tapping in impatience under his stool, his glare locked on the nearby bottle, as if it were a dragon's head he were trying to intimidate.
"Sir," Wellington spoke up from beside him, "perhaps you should rest. It has been—"
"I don't want to rest. I feel like I must do something." He looked up. "Banyan, do you have any idea why you're niece would poison the queen?"
Banyan rubbed the back of his neck. "Can't say, sir. Can't hardly believe it, to be honest."
Court shook his head. The idea that Sienna was related to Celeste was one thing, not something he could share, but that didn't change Sienna's character. For her to suddenly turn from a meek stable girl to a cruel murderer... "Has she ever been violent? Ever cruel? Maybe to the horses? Maybe to the livestock? To someone else?"
"Not right as I can say, sir," Banyan said. "Guests seemed to love her. She took care of the horses like they were her own. And truth be told, whenever we have horses, she's always happier, because she has the company there in the barn, not alone for the night. Can't ever see her hurting them."
Court glared. "Why did you keep her in that barn, Banyan? You have a whole tavern filled with rooms."
"Rooms for the guests. I ain't got but one room for myself. Mrs. Crockery goes home at night. Where would I put her? I tell ya, I been struggling to keep this place afloat, and when her poor mother passed on, Sienna came to my door step, fell on my shoulders. I did right by her, best I could. I'm not a rich man, sir."
Court turned his head. "Forgive me, Banyan. I sometimes forget how commoners live."
"No need to apologize, sir."
"But selling her was out of line," Court said, glaring again.
Banyan lowered his head. "Aye, you're right about that. I regret that. I wouldn't do it the same."
Court looked away. "She was a kind girl, too kind to do something like this, to poison someone."
"Sir," Wellington spoke up, "she admitted to it, put her name to it."
Court stood up, walking away, passing through the tavern door. He marched to the barn, throwing the doors open and coming up to the stall on the end. Striker was there, nickering. Court began to open the stall, but then Wellington caught up.
"Sir?"
Court spun around. "I just can't believe it! I don't care if she told me. I don't care if she sat me down and explained it in detail. I don't care if I witnessed it with my own eyes. I can't believe it! I have to ride to the castle and ask her again!"
"You did not know her as well as you think, sir. She was an innocent young girl, yes, but you did not know what she was capable of."
Court leaned against the gate. "I did know her, Wellington. I spoke to her. I looked into her eyes. I kissed her. I knew her."
"Sir?"
Court slumped to the ground, leaning back against the gate. "I am not proud to admit it, but I was beginning to...feel something for her."
"Sir, you are to be married in six days."
"I know that, Wellington," Court said. "It was not as if I would have betrayed Celeste, but Celeste has been so cold since the night we met. I began looking forward to seeing Sienna. I found something so very comforting about her."
"She was a friend, sir. But friends do betray the ones they trust, and that girl betrayed the queen."
"It doesn't make sense," Court said, rubbing his face. "I have turned it over and over in my mind, and I cannot fathom it. And where does the dragon fit in?"
"The dragon?"
"Yes. It came for her mother, than her, twice."
"You still believe a person outstanding has influence over it?"
"I must believe it."
"But who?"
Court shook his head. "Who has enough power to control a dragon? And more to the point, why destroy a stable girl?"
"I could not imagine a stable girl making enemies with someone so powerful," Wellington offered.
"What if she was more than a stable girl," Court said.
"Sir?"
He glanced up. "Wellington, this is for your ears only. Celeste suggested to me that Sienna's mother had an affair with the king, that Sienna has royal blood."
"What? You are serious?"
"Indeed. Celeste said Queen Friora told Sienna, and that was why Sienna poisoned her, and that she had intended to kill Celeste as well."
"Dear Lord. Sir, if I may say, that is quite a motive."
"But who has a motive to kill Sienna?"
"If Queen Celeste knew Sienna was after her, might not she wish to be rid of the stable girl?"
"I cannot believe Celeste could do that anymore than I could believe Sienna could kill the queen."
"Then who?"
"A witch, the same witch who was rumored to have put the dragon to silence."
"And you believe that story?"
"It is beyond speculation now, for I have seen the proof in the beast's behavior. And if we find this witch, Wellington, it will be our duty to destroy her, for she is the one who is truly responsible for the deaths of our comrades, and I so believe upon her death, this puzzle would at last fit into place."
"Come, my prince. You may rest on it. Perhaps things will be clearer in the morning."
Chapter Twenty
On Wellington's Shoulders
Sienna was starving. She had not been fed in days. She held her stomach, staying curled up in a ball.
"Here, child," Homa said, slipping half a piece of bread through the bars. "I've been saving it. I think you need it."
"I'll wait until they feed us again. You go ahead."
"Child, they're not going to feed us again."
Sienna crawled over, taking the bread. She broke it in half. Homa shook her head, but Sienna insisted and they ate their two mouthfuls in silence.
"It's not right to treat prisoners like this," Sienna said, curling up again.
"No, it is not," Homa agreed.
Sienna felt so cold here in the dungeon. Her silk dress did nothing to warm her. Her leg still hurt, but she had taken off the belt Court had affixed to it. Fortunately, the wounds had scabbed over, though it still hurt to stand. Her back was no better off from her lashing. Homa had helped her patch it with straw.
"You think, think maybe Court can defeat the dragon if it comes for him again?"
"I don't know, child. From all you've told me, he is a strong, brave man."
"But even if he did," Sienna whispered, "she'd poison him, wouldn't she?"
"I fear as much, child. I do not know when the princess turned so cruel. Even I had always assumed it was Queen Friora who had poisoned her husband."
"I wish there was someway to warn him."
"So do I, child."
"Did I make a good princess, Madam Homa?" Sienna asked. "Like, if I had been born as a princess in the castle and all that, would you have thought I made a good princess?"
"Oh, child, I fear if you were born a princess and so raised in the castle, your precious, innocent spirit would have been corrupted. Princess Celeste was not born cruel. It was her spoiled life that turned her so."
"Yeah," Sienna whispered.
"But," Homa continued, "I think you would make a fine princess now. I think you would be the kindest monarch our kingdom had ever known."
Sienna smiled, chuckling. "I'd let people get away with anything. And I'd visit all the taverns in the kingdom to see if the stable girls and boys were being treated okay. And I'd give everyone free money, and I'd throw big, big parties, and I'd invite everyone, not just nobles. And I'd give all the girls in the kingdom dresses."
Homa was laughing. "Free dresses?"
"Yeah. Nothing makes you feel pretty like a new dress. I'd make sure everyone had one. Oh, and free hors d'oeuvres in all the dress shops. That way, while you're trying on dresses, you can snack. And Betilly can make those little sausage things. Mmm."
Homa laughed even harder. Sienna giggled with her.
"I'd give all the boys in the kingdom free suits too," she continued. "That way, when they come to the ball, they can look nice together. I'd have masquerade balls all the time. And people can meet each other there and have hors d'oeuvres, and I won't ever make anyone bow to me. And I'll tell them they can call me by my first name. It would be okay with me."
"And whoever would be your lady-in-waiting, dear princess?" Homa asked.
"Aw, you, of course, Madam Homa."
"I accept with sincerity."
* * *
Wellington stood before Court, tying a black bowtie around the neck of his white suit. Court was staring vacantly over Wellington's shoulder.
"Do cheer up, sir. It's your wedding day."
"And Sienna's execution day."
"Sir, put her out of your mind. She is a criminal. You are marrying your bride today, the woman you fell in love with. What more joyous event could there be?"
"Only that dragon's head on a pike."
"It will come to you in time, sir. And then you shall mark yourself as a king who slew a dragon. Might you not even present it to your father when we return to visit in the coming year?"
"I might, if I can find the accursed thing."
"Have patience, sir."
"You've been a good valet, Wellington, and an even better friend."
"Sir, it warms my heart to hear you speak so highly of me."
"You're a good man. I hope you can settle down yourself before long."
"With all respect, sir, once you are a king, you shall not be gallivanting all over the country side and perhaps I can."
"No promises, Wellington."
"Indeed not, sir."
Court and Wellington moved downstairs, finding the bar empty of all but Banyan and Mrs. Crockery.
"This is it then, sir?" Banyan said.
"It is, Banyan," Court said. "It has been an interesting time at your tavern, certainly a time I shall never forget. Thank you for putting up with me."
"It's a feather in my cap, as I can say, sir, the king himself having stayed in my tavern!"
"Indeed, than my debt is fully paid."
"All but your last night's room fee, sir," Banyan said.
Court chuckled. "You never change. Wellington, won't you take care of it?"
"Of course, sir, when I return to settle up."
"Thank you."
"Come, sir," Wellington said. "You must be off."
Court nodded his head and then passed through the door as Wellington held it. A great white landau was waiting, to which the footman opened the door, bowing at the waist.
"Wellington," Court said, grabbing his shoulder. "I shall see you in the castle church when you've finished here. You shall find me at the altar, and it is there I shall be sweating most terribly to marry my bride."
Wellington laughed. "I believe I will find you well enough, sir."
"Truthfully, Wellington," Court said, lowering his voice to a whisper, "it is the wedding night that has me more nervous than the nuptials."
Wellington cleared his throat, glancing at the footman. "Sir, I believe a knight so courageous as yourself shall have no difficulties in completing such a mission."
"Pray a mission I must take on my own."
"You would not wish it any other way, sir."
"Indeed not," Court said. "Do not be late, Wellington."
"I shall watch the clock. Off you go so you may not be late either."
Court stepped into the carriage. The doors closed, and then it rolled away. Wellington returned to their rooms, gathering up their things, stopping downstairs.
"Have you prepared the horses?" he asked.
"Did it myself," Mrs. Crockery spoke up.
"And the pay," Banyan reminded him.
"Of course, sir. A prince never steps out on his debts." Wellington paid him, though he did not tip. "It was an interesting experience, and may I say, one I hope never to repeat."
"You come back any time, Wellington," Banyan said with a grin.
Wellington raised an eyebrow as he left, his bag over his shoulder. He headed to the barn, finding just two horses, the prince's and his own. He lowered his head in remembrance of the lost knights who so died to protect their prince.
He took his horse out first, a white steed, trusting him to stay put as he went for Striker. Striker gave a whinny in warning. Wellington was wary as he opened the gate, fighting with the broken latch. He took Striker's reins, tugging him out. Striker pulled back.
"Yes, yes, I know I am not your master, but do cooperate. It shall not be a great journey and you shall be reunited soon enough."
Once Striker was out, Wellington tethered the reins to his horse. And then he secured their things onto Striker's back, wrapping a rope around his underbelly. However, as he came around behind Striker, the horse whinnied, kicking. His hooves caught Wellington right in the chest, knocking him into the stall. He fell on his back, the air gone from his lungs.
"Curse you, you beast!" Wellington said, sitting up, holding his chest as he coughed. "I am most put out by you! May his highness never again attend a horse race and be so smitten by a steed!"
Wellington was slow to get up, turning around on all fours, trying to stand, his eyes on the ground. Then he tilted his head, squinting. He knelt down, brushing aside the straw. He found a hair brush, with golden locks in the bristles, as well as a single gold coin. Next, he found a dead flower, the petals crumbling as he touched it, and then a handmade necklace of threaded pumpkin seeds, with a matching bracelet. He pushed aside the rest of the straw to reveal a blanket and a spare set of clothes, filthy and disgusting. And then one more thing, a scroll.
To Court Cross, From Sienna LaBrough
Wellington sat on the ground, winded from his ordeal, and unrolled the scroll. His eyes began scanning the text, growing larger and larger as he read. And then his head shot up.
"Oh, my God! The stable girl, she is, she is...she impersonated the princess! This cannot be! I cannot believe it! But heavens, I must! Can it be true? How? But if it is true... Yes, the princess' behavior, her mannerisms, this letter may very well be the truth!"
Wellington stood up, and then he began pacing.
"But what do I do? Heavens, how do I proceed? I cannot let the prince marry a woman he does not truly love, can I? But then, Queen Celeste is a woman of honorable blood, with an upright manner. He does love her, even if the foundation of that love is...a lie."
He looked to the horses, as if they had an answer. They stared at him.
"Well, don't look at me like that! Why should I tell him the truth and destroy his love for her majesty? A prince should marry a princess! And don't you dare remind me that the stable girl is half a princess as well! For it takes more than blood to make royalty."
Striker nickered, snorting at him.
"And she is a killer," he reminded the horse. "She murdered the queen! She admitted to that!"
But then he turned around, slapping the scroll in his palm.
"Or did she? Could it have been a mistake? Might Queen Celeste, knowing what Sienna had done, wish to dispel her?"
He turned back to the horses.
"And if it is true, who murdered the queen? And yet the question of the dragon begs to be answered with this knowledge, does it not? Who now has a motive to kill the stable girl stronger than ever befor
e but her majesty?"
The horses turned their heads, swishing their tail.
"Heavens, don't turn away! Help me, you beasts! What am I to do? I must act. I must do something."
He stopped pacing, holding his head for a moment.
"Do I tell the prince? Do I remain silent? I must....must...must speak to the stable girl. That is what I must do! Yes, that is what I must do!"
* * *
The warden brought a bucket of water, and upon seeing it, Sienna sat up like a dog waiting to be fed table scraps, licking her cracked lips. Then the man threw the water through the bars, splashing her with it. She gasped, but she opened her mouth to take in as much as she could.
"Oh, thank you!" Sienna said, dipping her head to the floor, sucking up what water she could.
"Clean up, you filthy creature," the warden said. "The executioner likes his victims washed."
A brush hit her in the head, but she did not care. She licked at the water, her thirsty throat at last relenting from the fire. Homa was next, a bucket of water thrown on her and a brush to the head. Just as Sienna had done, she was sucking up the water as it pooled between the cracks of the stone floor.
Afterward, Sienna took the brush to her flesh, wetting the bristles with what water was left. One glare from the warden and a hand on his whip told her to obey. Halfway through her bath, she heard a voice, a distant voice, but so familiar it made her inhale a breath of air. She crawled to the bars, sticking her ear between them.
"...one day's time, I will be the valet to the king, his personal servant and friend. If you refuse me now, I will leave, but as I do so, I promise to return tomorrow, and upon my return, it is you I shall see behind these bars! Now, step aside, you beast of a man!"
"It is the prince's valet!" Homa said.
"Wellington!" Sienna shouted, her heart leaping out of her chest, raising her voice even over the cheers of the other prisoners who loved to see the warden put in his place. "Wellington! Oh, Wellington! Hurry! Please, hurry! I have to tell you something! The prince is in danger! Can you hear me? Wellington!"
Homa joined in. "Wellington! Please hurry to us! There is urgent news!"